Awkward Encounters

Awkwardness abounds these days and I cannot seem to stop stumbling (or stuttering) around life in general and Portland in particular.

Yesterday for instance. I had arranged to meet Alex, a potential roommate at his house at 235 N Buffalo in North Portland. I knocked on house number 235 and waited momentarily before a woman peered out the window and yelled something to someone inside.

"Weird," I thought. "She must be getting Alex to come to the door before she lets me in." I stood patiently out in the cold while I heard the woman fumble with keys to open the door. Alex and the woman both greeted me at the door, but didn't really seem ready for me to see the house.
"Alex?" I asked the guy, making sure I was in the right place.

"Yeah," he replied. I followed them into the house, waiting for them to make the next move. When they didn't say anything I started feeling awkward so searched for something to say. Right as I started commenting on the fireplace in the living room, they both walked into the other room. At that moment I realized, something wasn't right. I followed them into the hall.

"Do you have a room for rent?"

"No," Alex replied. All three of us realized the same thing at the same time and started laughing. I had come to 235 NE instead of 235 N Buffalo Street, and a guy named Alex just happened to live at each house.

"Hey I have some mail for that house, do you mind bringing it over?" The woman asked. We laughed again and said goodnight. The real 235 house was only 4 blocks away.

Hick at Heart...and in Real Life

Tuesday marked the day as my second Craigslist Rideshare adventure, and once again I was not to be disappointed.

His ad offered a ride to the mountain; two if the second person could fit into a space only big enough to accommodate an "anorexic midget."

A little less optimistic this time around; I thought J sounded nice, but not necessarily....the snowboarding type. He described his on hill performance in the terms of "falling on my face a lot." He also didn't really direct the conversation, which is something I look for in a potential companion. Don't get me wrong, I guess I'm not really looking for a director as much as I'm looking for a suggestor, or maybe someone with an opinion?

He ended up being one of the strong silent types. And he did fall on his face......a lot. We ended up leaving a little early because he thought he may have broken his collar bone. No, he wasn't one faint of heart. He was an ex-soldier who recently retired from the military and was trying to pick up snowboarding. I saw a glimpse of myself in him. We both don't give ourselves enough time and charge ahead when we aren't really prepared, or experienced.

I tried to warn him: quality is more important than quantity, or at least speed. Poor guy never had a chance. "Try to put some power behind your carves," I told him. "Your carves are somewhat noncommittal." He was somewhat offended, I think. Or too macho to accept my advice.

The sad part was he seemed to be afraid to show his true self. I noticed small things like his smoking habit and music preference. He tried to hide his puffs and felt he had to excuse his love of country. Smoke as many Marlboro's as you want, and I don't care if you know every word to every country song ever written. Sing away. Please, don't be afraid of my lowly opinion.

A hick at heart is a hick at heart......and no reason exists to be ashamed.

Rain

"Why look up? There's no point." M.E.


Rain
The utterly lost forlorn feeling that rain creates as it permeates the citizens of Portland must come to an end...someday.
Typical Oregonians wouldn't be caught dead complaining about the weather. The other day two women were walking in the rain without umbrellas. I passed them on the street, also without an umbrella. We caught each other's eyes and I commented on our mutual lack of covering. They laughed and said they were from Oregon, implying they didn't need an umbrella!
I couldn't help thinking that the women did too need umbrellas, they were drenched.
I kept walking.

Overcast Skies
At first no one even notices. Gray is gray, so what? After a while, the never ending need for sleep, constant shallow mood and pessimistic outlook start pointing fingers at each other, each blaming the other for his presence. I have heard an Oregonian or two say if you make it through a winter, summertime will never let you leave. Since only the strong survive, it is no wonder Portland is full of such warm hearted people.
I may be forced to leave after all.

Puddles
You know those ugly plastic barn boots that you see out shopping? That you used to wear when you were little solely for the purpose of Saturday morning puddle pounding? Yeah, people wear those here. Not because they want to either. My poor suede scrunch boots will never see the light of day, not that light exists to be seen anyway. Deadly holes have taken over the soles and when worn outside the rain seeps in and climbs up my leg soaking my sock and leg of my pants.
Happy? Not so much.

To the Old Blood of Portland

Portland, Oregon. Hipster kingdom. A city too young to be called solidified, and not old enough to be wise beyond years.

Me? An immigrant hipster perhaps. When I moved west, I did not know what lay before me. I was fresh out of college headed for the mountains of Summit County. Oregon was never meant to be more than a pit stop at Mount Hood and was only to last for the summer.

Never did I expect to find my love here. I did not know Portland is rated in the top ten cities in the states to visit, I did not know of the possibilities of catching early morning runs at Mount Hood, a late lunch of sushi in Portland, and a wave or two at sunset in Pacific City, all in the same day! I did not know of the area's exotic wild beauty, the city's artsy environmental focus, or the people's liberal lifestyle.

What I'm trying to say is I did not seek Portland out. It just happened. Portland and I met unexpectedly; we had mutual friends and mutual interests. We had never heard of each other so everything was fresh, wild, and exciting; our relationship just fell into place. Our young love was beautiful, and we decided we wanted more. We wanted a future together, but we did not know how we were going to make it work because our pasts were worlds apart.

We had our falling outs and I even left for awhile. The time apart only served to strengthen our bond because the feelings did not fade. That was when I knew: Portland and I, our love was real, as real as it was new.

I mean no disrespect. Being young, hot, and seemingly available, I know Portland attracts many. Special treatment is not expected. I know I am new, I know I have to wait my turn, and I know it might be a long time before you can accept me as true, as part of Portland. The initiations have only begun. Swanky frados telling me I can't have that job in that pathetic dump of a restaurant, telling me I can't have that room in that cracked out garbage sty are only meant as a test of my true character. I refuse to let these, or any other clenching jaws tear me down.

Just so long as you know I am here, you can ignore me and push me away all you want. I want to be of Portland, and my hipster heart will not be leaving anytime soon. Portland has given me an ideal, and I will not settle for anything less.

Haiku

January 10, 2008

I need an image
You do not like my picture
Paint me a portrait

Haiku

I do not relate
No, not in this point of time
And maybe never

Haiku

Two forces clashing
Painfully aware is one
Deathly unaware

Haiku

Low on life again
What a terrible mind frame
Circumstances change

Dirty stretched jeans
Knarled hair and smudged looks
I know I am poor

Haiku

Why are my feet wet?
Holes are in my shoes again
I know I am poor

My toe is bleeding
I walked too far today
I am so tired

Out with the old stuff
Phoebe chops, Melissa snips
My hair is like new

One is in my car
The other in someone’s house
Where are my headphones?

Trying to ignore
Killing feelings inside me
When will I face hate?

Do you understand?
Painfully small these haiku
Ideas fall short

If I could convey
My feelings in these few words
I would feel so wise

First Day(s)

Urban Outfitters Sales Associate Location on NW 23rd, Portland OR Thought processes during first 8 hour shift Break room: Reading through 3 mandatory training booklets (Customer Service, Theft Prevention, Employee Handbook) Skimming, skimming, skimming. Wait. Is speed or comprehension more important? How well do I need to know this stuff? This is like 100 pages, how much can I retain? Who cares? Skimming skimming skimming. Take as long as it takes. Stop rushing everything Anne. Dressing room: Duties: Take clothes from customers to count. Unlock room and put clothes in room. Write number of items on door. Take items customers don't want and count to make sure they are all there. Give them back the assesories you were holding for them. Unlock room and check under bench and over light fixtures for tags, etc. Erase number from door. Hang/fold unwanted items and categorize them. Repeat. Repeat while maintaining a fun, customer friendly and entertaining atmosphere. Yikes, missed a step. Where did girl with 3 items go? Oh no. Oh well. Note: Only 1 person in each room Note: Employee handbook says only 5 items per room, but that doesn't matter. Note: Be careful not to get key hanging around neck wrapped in hangers. You don't want to choke. Note: Locks are designed with right-handed people in mind. Use two hands. How do you hold the clothes and unlock the door then? Don't ask stupid questions. Door Greeter: (aka stalker of shoplifters) Duties: Greet EVERY customer -god forbid you miss the secret shopper- Watch door for shoplifters, do figure eights to maintain store presence, always appear busy. Straighten merchandise. Act natural. (Anne is trying to do figure eights while straightening. A customer walks in. She gallops closer to the door so that she greets EVERY customer while trying to appear natural. Now she isn't doing anything so she quickly resumes her figure eights so as to always appear busy. She is folding behind the "forms" (according to the employee handbook, Urban calls them forms, not manequins) A customer walks in so she peers awkwardly around the forms so she greets EVERY customer, while trying to appear natural.)

New Favorite Dating Service

Craigslist once again enriched my life and this time through its rideshare link . Being a young female in a new city in 2008, the thought of hooking up with some random and riding for hours in a vehicle and then traipsing around the mountain together was a little intimidating if not unsafe, stupid and crazy.

But this morning I took a leap of faith. After sifting through a few ads including those with headlines such as "ride offered to meadows," and "need ride to mt. hood meadows 1/8 powder yay," I responded to the one with this heading:
"MEADOWS: You want to give me a ride. (details inside)"
Inside it read: "Very simple proposition: You give me a ride & I share gas, I provide a couple j's maybe even buy you coffee. The earlier the better. We stay as long as you want. The end."
Included was the picture on the right.

I zipped off an email and within ten minutes got the voice mail. "Am I crazy?" I asked myself. I only had thirty seconds of recording to base my intuition on, but from his voice I sensed maturity, a clear goal (making it to the mountain) and a degree of normalcy. After a few minutes of chatting about the weather and road conditions, the blind date was on. Who could resist that animal?

What to wear? A typical question in preparation for the first of anything. I didn't want to out dress this random, or present myself in a way that would give the wrong impression of my riding style. I stuffed my options in a bag and that was that.
Eight fifty was leave time, but I didn't actually leave until nine. Traffic was extremely backed up, so I continued my tradition of keeping dates waiting and then having poor excuses for why I was late.

The hang time while driving to pick this dude up was nerve wracking. "What will he be like? What will he look like? Is he an ax murderer? Will he think the ax murderer joke is funny? What if he is really old/young/annoying/boring/weird? What if he steals/smokes/has a gold grill?" I wondered.

I found his house and shrank in the driver's seat for as long as I dared. "This is it," I thought, "Oh my god, I'm crazy."

One look in his eyes and I felt instantly at ease. He greeted me with coffee, muffins and snowboard in hand. The ax murderer scenario wasn't going to happen, so I slid my pepper spray back in to hiding.

Craigslist did me well. Never have I been so satisfied with a service. Many promising options, up to date information and positive ratings are only a few of Craigslist's positive features. Best of all I can finally stop searching and let Craigslist do my work.

The Beginning

My mom and I were talking about beginnings today. My dear brother, Tom, recently had surgery in response to his lifelong battle with Crohn's disease. Crohn's is an ongoing disorder than causes inflammation in the digestive tract. No cure is yet available. Throughout the years I have witnessed Tom going through various stages of not being able to eat certain things without throwing up. Sometimes it didn't matter what he ate: he threw everything up. For weeks at a time my brother suffered through stomach ache after stomach ache, nauseousness and the inability to keep food down. In the worst times his 5'9" frame only weighed 110pounds.
Today my mom told me that my brother has gained thirty pounds since the surgery (now over two months ago). He who used to look like a stick figure, especially sitting around in sweats my mom recalls, now has legs!
Finally free from weakness and pain, Tom has begun a new life with a new job in a new city, and is finding more hobbies and forming more relationships than he has in the past eight put together.
I mentioned to my mom how happy I am for Tom, "It is like he has been reborn," I said. "His life has begun all over."
My mom responded, "Anne your life has just begun too. Everyday it begins again. You are not going to find happiness in one day. It is going to take time."

Tom went through so much to get to his "rebirth," I can only believe that what I struggle with daily will someday lead to a rebirth such as his.